Touched by the Mobster

Chapter V – Maxweel Benavent

"Stick to the plan. Follow him." I sighed, already knowing this would give me a headache. "Look at that girl... Just imagining her disgusts me. Keep her as far away from me as possible."

He nodded, standing by the door.

"Do your best, and if she doesn’t make up for the damage he caused me in just two nights, put him to work during the day on something—anything—to make him understand who they are. And never let him forget there are places he should never enter. Now go."

John left.

I stayed at the club until late. When I got home, I called Blanka.

"Love?" I heard the smile I adore.

"Max, what are you doing calling me at this hour?"

I smiled. Her voice is the best cure after a long night.

"Just seeking my relaxation before bed, my angel."

She chuckled.

"And what about you, darling? What are you doing?"

She sighed as I stepped out of the car.

"I'm lying in bed, waiting for you to call me."

That was more than comforting—Blanka Lukasser waiting for my call. The best gift to end the night.

"I feel like a god from Olympus." He laughed as I walked into the house that had once been the Benavent family home.

I grew up here, watching my parents smile, sharing a life together. I saw my grandfather age, commanding and dismantling the Italian mafia. Until, when he discovered my father had lost control in just one week at the helm, he had a heart attack and died right in front of us.

Now we hold only ten percent of the mafia’s control. For those who were once the bosses, we are almost nothing.

That’s why it became necessary to expand the business—trafficking and prostitution help maintain the luxury and class we Benavents are used to.

But this isn’t what I grew up watching. My grandfather was a respected man, admired by all.

There are only two Benavents left with me now: Aries, my youngest brother, who lives abroad, and Apolo, my middle brother.

Our Greek god names came from our mother’s idea, but my father, leaving me as his eldest son, named me Maxweel Benavent.

"But you are one!"

I clicked my tongue and shook my head. Unfortunately, I’m not.

Everyone thinks being a mafioso is something glorious, but all I see is work, endless effort, sleepless nights, and danger at every turn.

"You’re my god of love. Are you behaving, Max?"

I sighed in resignation. It’s been hard, but I am. My answer came out in a whisper.

"You have no idea how much."

She smiled, giving me one more reason to stay committed to my purpose.

My brothers are doing well. Aries studies technology and wants nothing to do with the family business. Apolo helps me, though to be honest, he hinders more than he helps—like the man who currently owes me seven hundred thousand, for example.

"I have to go. Good night, Max!"

"Good night, my love. Dream of me."

I had barely set foot on the stairs when I saw him on the upper floor.

"So, how was today? Did you manage to control yourself and keep your dear pleasures at bay, god of desire?"

I looked at my brother. I know he's like me. He’s always been in love with Blanka. At first, I thought I’d see them together, but now I’m sure that won’t happen. They’ll be in-laws, and Apolo is perfectly fine with that.

"What do you think? I’ll have the perfect woman in my bed in less than six months. Do you really think I’d trade that for just another meaningless fling?"

He shook his head in denial. I climbed the stairs and placed a hand on his shoulder, gripping the muscle firmly. He works out more than I do, but despite being darker-skinned than him—and even without as much exercise—I’m stronger. I just don’t wear shirts that show off my muscles like he does. I have to wear suits, because of the business.

"I have no interest in Blanka, brother. I sincerely wish you both happiness and a dozen children."

I looked at him from the side, raising an eyebrow.

"Come on, tell me—who’s the lucky one this time?"

He grinned broadly, placing a hand on my shoulder too.

"There’s no lucky one. I simply don’t see any point in competing with you for her.

There are only three Benavents left, and our nerd brother never comes around. He doesn’t count, does he?"

I nodded, meeting his eyes. "Ares is just far away, but he’s still a Benavent."

"Apolo Benavent, come on, tell me the name of your new conquest. Did you go seducing some helpless damsel again?"

I chuckled, exhaling through my lips.

"I don’t owe you an explanation for that. Tell me about the Argentinians."

He sighed and nodded.

"They’re with the girls. Tomorrow we’ll get some solid answers. But now you tell me about the man you let into the casino last night. I ended up losing a fortune because of you."

He frowned, pretending not to remember—like always.

"Apolo... You know how discreet the English are. They almost beat the guy to a pulp tonight. There was a Maleate at the table..."

He didn’t even let me finish.

"What did they do to him? Is he dead?"

I shook my head, giving a faint smile.

"They say he has an annoying goddaughter. Lately, some clients have been asking for younger girls... those who prefer the younger type, of course. I decided to accept the offer."

He raised an eyebrow in realization, then finally sighed.

"Then there’s no problem. Did you at least see her? Is she cute? New meat coming in—that’s good."

I laughed but shook my head.

"I’m not going to waste my time checking if a girl is pretty, Apolo. I have Blanka. I made a promise, and I’ll stay faithful to her until the last day of my life."

He burst into laughter, mocking my choices.

But I know no one but me can change my decisions—and if I don’t want something, I won’t give in.

"You really think she’s worth it?"

I nodded as I walked into my room. He followed me. I began unbuttoning my shirt.

"Because if you were in my shoes, wouldn’t you save yourself for her?"

He snorted, shook his head more than once.

"No, I wouldn’t. But if that’s what you want—good luck!"

I took off my shirt, unbuttoned my pants, and slipped out of them, left in only my briefs.

I took a long shower. When I came out of my room, he was gone.

After eating, I did some crunches to wear myself out. Exhausted, I ended up falling asleep.

The day had barely begun, and it was already intense. I could tell by the expression on John’s face when he entered.

"Boss, can we take the girl today?"

I looked at John, standing beside me at the breakfast table, asking like he was more obsessed with the girl than I was—the one who lost all that money.

"Which girl?"

I frowned, concerned. We had more than twenty women imported from different parts of the world—all exceptional in beauty and training. But instead of walking runways, they worked in pleasure—s*x.

"Sir, the girl from the impostor the night before last."

I sighed—still on this subject?

"How’s the situation? Did he get the money?"

I looked at him. He quickly dropped his gaze and shook his head.

"No. He spent the whole night searching for her. He knows we’re following him. Should we step in before he runs?"

I drank my fruit juice, followed by goat’s milk—and not even during breakfast can I find peace.

"Do as you see fit. If that girl gives me a headache, you will deal with the consequences."

He nodded and left immediately.

"Have you even seen this girl, brother? Maybe she’s a decent person?"

I looked down at my phone—I’d forgotten I was still on a call with my youngest brother. As always, he was trying to see the best in people, even when they didn’t deserve it. Ares, the one who should’ve been the family problem, named after the god of war, now questioning me after overhearing the conversation.

"No, and I don’t care if she’s decent. Your father owes me a lot of money. After cheating at the casino table the night before last and insulting an important client, do you really think I should care whether she’s a nice girl? You want that latest macro book upgrade to go roaming around, Ares?"

He didn’t reply. Just ignored me.

"I’m with Maw on this one. Not to mention, she’s a teenager. At that age, girls are even more annoying than usual. She’ll be demanding, whining to John all day about special treatment."

I nodded, agreeing with Apolo, who had just entered the room.

John insisted so much on this girl, and now I knew he’d come begging me to let her go.

After our breakfast-for-three, I headed to the hotel for my meeting with the special clients.

At ten-thirty in the morning, I got a message from Blanka wishing me a very special good morning.

I glanced at the message, then shifted my attention back to the men seated before me—men who looked far better than they felt, slightly disheveled, dead tired, and still glowing from the pleasures of the night before. The women were gone; once business began, they always disappeared. Beautiful works of art to the eye, but absolute poison to any negotiation.

"Deal closed!"

I turned to the one with dark circles under his eyes—clearly, sleep hadn’t visited him last night.

"Fifty percent?"

He confirmed with a firm nod, no hesitation. The others didn’t argue. They would sell the finest whiskey, splitting fifty percent of the profits. Not a bad arrangement.

I didn’t want to gloat, but it felt like the Benavent reign was beginning to rise again.

I rushed out—five minutes left until my meeting with the Poles. The Donatellos might hold the crown now. Ever since Luigi Donatello took control of his family's empire, they’ve had the power, the influence, and the success. Meanwhile, we—the Benavents—have only known the taste of fury and the sting of hatred from the merciless Luigi.

But I’ll admit: he’s sharp.

I never wanted to get in his way, never wanted to be a thorn in his path—let alone a heel he could stumble on. My grandfather died the day he found out Luigi had taken over. Overnight, he had stolen most of our best clients—not with guns, not with bullets, not with threats… but with words.

I sighed in agony. Not even in my worst nightmares did I imagine this life. I'm in this business not for glory, but to make sure the family name doesn’t die. And of course, the luxurious life I’m used to—it's not easily earned. Soon, with my future wife by my side, all of it can be enjoyed twice as much.

So yes, it’s an investment.

A profit.

The guarantee of a high-standard life.

Naturally, I could never have any of it as an ordinary man—someone without value.